His whore, and nothing more
by JillyWillyBean
Summary: Title sucks, but check out the summary inside for more info. It's a dark tale of sex, drugs, lies, abuse, and suicide. POV's change thru out story...
1. Prolouge: Introduction to evil

Ginny stood there, a look of hate, malice, and sadness covering her beautiful face. She watched as the man she loved, or the man she thought she loved, wrapped his arms around another woman and kissed her passionately. Truly she had no right to be jealous, Harry Potter wasn't her fiancé, boyfriend, husband or promised to her in any other way. Yet jealousy stung in her heart, and she knew that revenge would be sweet. Her thoughts of late had been dark. She wanted to kill the bitch who had dared to lay it's hands on Harry. That bitch happened to be Cho Chang. As it was, Ginny had some very valuable information that could help her get Harry all alone, she just hadn't decided how and when to use it. She wanted to make sure to use it where it would hurt the most. Yes, her thoughts had become dark.  
  
It was Harry's 23rd birthday and all the Weasley's had been invited. Ginny went a bit reluctantly, but the point was that she went. While the rest of the clan enjoyed mingling with the throngs of people that were stuffed into Harry's London flat, Ginny sat in a dark corner and brooded. Tonight was the night. Cho had decided to pull a no show, a perfect chance for Ginny to hit Harry where it hurt. She would have to wait until later though, until everyone was gone. As the part commenced, Harry noticed Ginny in the dark corner. He frowned a bit. When in Hogwarts, Ginny had always been a bit of a social outcast, but in her adult life he had seen her buzz around like a bee. She was usually on a date or at a party or with friends whenever the trio had tried to contact her. It was strange to see her sitting there looking. evil. As her dark eyes crept up to meet his, Harry gave her a meek wave, and then turned away. He was mad that Cho wasn't there, he was mad that the party wasn't appeasing his mood and most of all, he was mad at Ginny's dark, angry eyes.  
  
Around midnight the crowd started to thin. At 12:30, all but Ginny had left. Harry shut the door to the flat, and then turned to see Ginny eying him mischievously. Harry gulped a bit then started to pick up some trash, trying to avoid her dark stare. He didn't hear her walk up to him, not it came as quite a shock to him when her cold hands touched his face. Springing up abruptly, Harry turned and was face to face with Ginny. Her eyes looked like ice, blue, cold, and hard. Harry noticed that even though her hand was resting on his cheek it was still freezing cold.  
  
"Your hands are like ice Gin." it took him a moment to notice he had stopped breathing. She inched closer to him each second that he didn't speak. Before either of them knew it their noses were touching, fire touched ice. It came as a major shock to Harry when Ginny harshly brushed her lips with his. She made to deepen the kiss but Harry broke away.  
  
"Ginny. what about Cho?" Harry touched his lips as a look of disbelief came over his face.  
  
"What the hell Harry! For years I've wanted to touch you, to, and I'll admit it, to seduce you, just be close to you, and then on your fucking birthday your fucking girlfriend doesn't even show, and you still care about her opinion!?!" Ginny was furious. She didn't even care about the language she had used, or the fact that she had revealed her intentions to the man she loved. She was mad, how could Cho, someone who had something so good, not care enough to keep it close. If Ginny were her, she would have made sure she was at Harry's party, but she wasn't Cho.  
  
"Gin don't talk about her that way," Ginny narrowed her eyes in fury at his response. "That's all you have to say?! After 11 years of slaving after you, I decide to do something about it, and all you can do is defend that slut?!" Her face was red in rage.  
  
"Don't call her that!"  
  
"SLUT!"  
  
"I'm warning you Ginny, she has done nothing to deserve being called that." Harry shook in calm fury. How dare this girl, who he had considered his friend, talk to him, about the woman he loved, this way!  
  
"Oh wake up and smell the coffee dip shit. She's been fucking around with some muggle for the last 2 years. Don't tell me that you're so thick you didn't know that," Ginny's eyes looked like ice again. She had cooled down some, but she was still furious.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you saying Ginny?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. Ginny could see he was furious at her accusation. "You had better be joking Virginia Weasley, you had better hope to God you're just jealous," Harry was trembling now. How dare she come into his house and say these things to him.  
  
"You are thick, and don't call me Virginia. If you don't believe me, you don't have to, but it's all in there," she gestured towards a large envelope she had been carrying. "It's all in there Harry, what a kick in the pants that is, don't you think? I had to do something though, she doesn't deserve you, she's fucking you Harry, and not in the way you'd like her to be. I bet you think it's kind of strange how your girlfriend of 3 years hasn't even bedded you yet, I bet you find it funny how she's always on "business trips" when all she does is work at the corner café. You must be dumber then I thought, Potter, either that, or you are desperate. I've had my say, I'm going now," Ginny felt tears well in her eyes. She knew that what she had just done was a horrible thing to do, but it was too late now. Carefully avoiding any contact with Harry, Ginny slipped to the door. She turned back one last time to see him devouring the contents of the envelope. His eyes widened in horror.  
  
"Did, did you take these?" he held up one of the photos. "Yes, photography is one of my many hidden talents Potter. It's a pity you never bothered to notice though, it's a pity you won't get that chance. Good bye," and with that, she slipped out of the door before Harry could retort.  
  
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Feeling like quite the bitch, Ginny walked numbly towards nowhere. Before she knew it, her feet had carried her to her favourite muggle pub. Shaking her head, she turned her heel and walked the other way. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own though, because she ended up in front of another pub. This time it was the famous Leaky Cauldron, a second home to witches and wizards alike. Seeing as the pub was the most appealing option at the time, Ginny went in, hoping one of her choices would turn out for the good tonight. As luck would have it, all odds were against her that night. As soon as she entered the Leaky Cauldron, who should she spot but her, or rather, her brother's archenemy. Draco Malfoy. It was too late for her to sneak out quietly, he had spotted her. Seeing the sneer on his face, Ginny decided to brave it and not allow him the pleasure of seeing her duck out. A tad too confidently, Ginny sauntered up to the bar, taking a stool right next to Malfoy. Ignoring him, Ginny looked around to see that the pub was relatively empty except for the two.  
  
"Tom, a fire whiskey please, and be generous," Ginny instructed the innkeeper. If she was going to drink her woes away, she was going to do it right. The whiskey burned at first, but halfway through the tall glass the burning stopped, and the alcohol began to take effect.  
  
"What brings you here Virginia?" Draco said through a smirk. It was quite amusing to watch this fair skinned, petite woman try to drown herself in alcohol. He wondered how much her body could take.  
  
"As if you care Draco," she spat at him. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Ginny chugged down more of the devilish drink.  
  
"Virginia, must you be so touchy," his eyes glinted with mischief. She narrowed her eyes at him in question.  
  
"Life is miserable as usual, and whiskey sounded better then a joint at the time. I don't know, my feet have a mind of their own when I'm miserable," Ginny didn't know why she confessed all this. After all, this was Draco Malfoy. Her enemy- no her BROTHERS enemy, not hers.  
  
"Hmm, aren't you just a little devil," Draco chuckled, "I never would have guessed that a Weasley, and such a pretty one at that, would let such bad influences into her life."  
  
"I know, unbelievable eh? Well believe it Malfoy. I'm not the goody two shoes everyone expected me to be. As a matter of fact, I hate my life with a passion. I'm itching to do something shocking, bad even, just to prove I'm not the little Ginny they thought I was. That'll show 'em," Ginny's eyes flared in malice as she spoke this. Draco watched her amazed. She was passionate, angry, and evil even.  
  
"I think I can help you there," Draco drawled.  
  
"What do you mean?" Ginny's curiosity was invoked. She no longer had any morals. If the world ended tomorrow she could care less, if evil took over she could care less, if she ended up in a strangers bed she could care less. This new liberation was refreshing, and for once, she didn't care about anything she had so earnestly been working for. Screw the Order, screw her family, and screw Harry. When had they ever given a damn about her? Only when they needed her.  
  
"Just come," Draco had a very sinful look in his eye as he got up from the stool. Finishing her second glass of the vile drink, Ginny got up also.  
  
"Ok." 


	2. Stuck for bad

I couldn't remember anything. All I remember is laughter, cruel, happy, and excited. And then, then there was a dark period of time when I felt like I was on crack again, and I felt so dreamily alive, yet I didn't understand what was going on around me. It felt good. It felt damn good. Then, I woke up. The sheets that covered me were soft, probably silk. I was naked, vulnerably naked. It must have been a long time since I had eaten; because I could feel my ribs poke through my skin. Sitting there in the spacious bed of silk, I wondered, where in the goddamn hell am I? I remember Malfoy, I remember stone underneath my feet, a wand, cloaked figures, and stupefy.  
  
Then there was that damn feeling of euphoria again. I felt myself getting lightheaded as I stepped down from the bed. It was high up and sturdy. Made out of mahogany, with black silk sheets and coverlets spewing out of every corner. Whoever had chosen it had style, and money. I sat there thinking about Harry. Cho. Whiskey... Pot. Malfoy. Stupefy. Laughter. Euphoria. Stone. Silk. Where did it all fit together? Hell I didn't know, but it would make one fucking good story. Yeah, me, Ginny Weasley - that's my name right? Subject of a chance meeting in a bar ended up sick and naked in a strangers bed. I can see it now. Except, where the hell was this mysterious stranger? Had we been fucking? Where were the drugs? I know there had to be drugs, nothing else I had ever tried had felt like the feeling I was having now. My thoughts rambled on and on, none of it completely making sense.  
  
A laugh, a deep rumbling chuckle, chortle, snigger, whatever you'd call it, came tumbling out of my throat. I don't know why I laughed, the drugs perhaps? No, I just had to laugh. I remembered part of it now. I had told Malfoy I wanted to do something bad, something evil, show the world I wasn't a uptight goody goody bitch. No I was a down and dirty, fuck me, one night stand, let's get high kind of bitch. Pardon my French if you will. Hah, what a joke. I wanted to be the bad girl, so I had let Malfoy help me. This was probably his bed, he had probably fucked me during my sleep, I was probably pregnant with his child. Hah, the insanity of it all. I didn't even care that I wasn't making sense. I just rambled on and on inside of my head. When will this all make sense? Before I could think anymore of my crazy doped up thoughts, a man, a handsome dark stranger, entered the room. He wasn't a stranger though. I knew him. Where? Think Ginny think.  
  
"Ah, Miss Weasley," my name played on his lips, almost in distaste, "you have finally woken up." He over exaggerated the finally. Fuck you. It's not my fault I am sitting here, naked, and drugged up. How the hell am I supposed to keep track of how long I've slept in this state. I certainly didn't do this. Something about stupefy. stupefy. "Yah I'm awake, what's it to you?" I put on my best, "I'm-a-tough-girl" voice and tried to make it sound as if I actually knew what was going on. Tried is the key word there. Where did I know this face? Blue eyes, dark black hair, tall, handsome, in an old fashioned way of course.  
  
"No need to talk that way to me you foolish girl," a grin curled onto his lips. Not a happy go lucky grin, an evil, knowing grin. I finally seemed to notice I was standing there stark naked in front of this man. I could feel myself go red as I tried to pull a sheet around me. The cruel looking man simply laughed.  
  
"Would you mind," I said impatiently. There was no way in hell I was going to dress (where were my clothes?) with him watching me!  
  
"Virginia, Virginia, you seem to have forgotten who I am. Believe me, a woman's body is no mystery to me," a vicious snarl like smile returned to his mouth. I gave him the best glare I could.  
  
"Well then, just who the hell ARE you?" anger was rising in my voice. Sure I had wanted to be a "bad girl" but this was really getting out of hand. The nasty perv, just standing there looking at me, I knew what he was imagining. But, since I had already given him a full show, I guess it didn't matter too much.  
  
"You're saying, that you don't remember ME? Ginny Weasley, I thought you would of known," this was too much for him. Well, he was the only one enjoying it! The stupid bastard, trying to play mind games on me. Where did I know him from? Think Ginny think. OH God no, you've got to be joking me. I pinched myself, no it wasn't a dream. My eyes widened in horror, and he, that filth, let out a cruel high laugh.  
  
"So you do recognize me. What, no friendly hug or kiss? My, my your manners have not improved," he said in mock concern. Those eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes, so filled with hate, yet longing for something. And that voice, that damn hypnotizing voice. Already he had me under his spell. No Ginny, stay strong, don't let him get you under his skin.  
  
"Tom. It's been awhile. what the hell do you want with me?" I knew he could see the look of horror on my face, because he was having a hard time keeping himself from laughing in obvious pleasure.  
  
"Ahhh feisty are we? That is always a plus," he was directly avoiding my question. I felt my cheeks burn in fury. Draco Malfoy would be getting a serious kick in his fat ass when I saw him next. This was a little more extreme then my idea of "bad".  
  
"I suggest you put some clothes on. While I do quite enjoy seeing you in the nude, my dear, I'm afraid some of my company might find it a tad inappropriate for supper. I will return in 30 minutes," Tom turned to leave. Dumb bastard.  
  
"Oh, and I'll save you the trouble, there's no use trying to escape," flashing me a quick sinful grin, he sauntered out of the room, very proud of himself indeed. I heard a heavy door slam. Great, you sure got yourself into a pickle this time, Ginny Weasley. That's what ran through my head. I don't know why, but I found myself smiling. Perhaps it was because I hadn't seen Tom in about 10 years. He looked as handsome as ever. Perhaps it was because I knew I was rebelling, and hell, so far it felt good. There were many perhaps that ran through my mind, all and none of them seemed to fit. Laughter erupted from my throat. This would, indeed, be the beginning of a very interesting life.  
  
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It didn't take me long to find some clothes. There was a tall wardrobe made of dark wood that stood near to the bed. Seeing as I couldn't spot any clothes just lying about, I decided to check it out. There were more robes, and all of good quality, in there then I had ever seen at one time. At least, well, at least I got to do this in style. I rummaged through the robes, all of them were, let's just say, showy. Indecent. Inappropriate. Hell, I coulda' showed just as much going in the nude. Ok, alright, that's an over exaggeration, but seriously, any lower and my breasts would of popped right out. Also, ever curve on my body seemed to be accentuated. At least I'm not a man, I thought as I looked at my reflection. If I were, I'd sure be doing some "broomstick" polishing tonight. Oh how vain I've become. Thirty minutes must be a very short amount of time, because suddenly I was aware of Tom's presence again. I turned around, doing my best not to trip in the dangerously curved robes. Tom was grinning mischievously at me, not bothering to look me in the face.  
  
"Ravishing as always," was his solitary remark. He said it sort of a growl, and then made to leave the room. I suppose he wanted me to follow him, because he made a point to leave to door open as he exited. It only took me a moment of debating to realize that there was no point trying to refuse him. What I really needed right then was a joint to calm my angry mood. Sure I had loved Tom, but that was ages ago. He infuriated me, he made me want to scream, pull my hair out, and then kiss him into oblivion. I guess it's weird for a girl, from a decent family, to be having these kinds of thoughts about the dark lord. Not normal, not normal, I kept telling myself that. It became my mantra during those minutes it took for me to catch up to Tom.  
  
"Tom, why am I here?" I began. There was nothing formal in my voice. I spoke to him as if he were an old an dear friend, I spoke to him as if he were my equal. I would soon learn he was not my equal. This simple question must have triggered something in his head, for his face turned red in anger.  
  
"You will address me as Master, understood?" he said between angry breaths. He looked at me menacingly as if to say, "I dare you to disobey me." I knew better then that though. Tom had taught me in my first year while in The Chamber that he did not stand for any sort of disobedience. I nodded in solemn response.  
  
"Yes. Master." the words sounded strange on my tongue. Did Tom really hate me so much? If he did, then why did he fill my head with lies of love and other things so many years ago? I felt my bottom lip trembling and my eyes crinkling up in hope of tears. Ouch, biting my lip seemed the best way to prevent an onslaught of tears. All it took was 30 minutes with Tom to make me fall for him again. Harry who? Ha, what a joke. There was no Harry Potter to me anymore, not with Tom, hypnotizing, cruel, handsome Tom around. How could I stand there falling back into his trap when he was sneering at me? I always had been the weak one.  
  
We continued the rest of the length of the hall in silence. I kept sneaking not so sly glances at Tom. He had matured into a man, a handsome man. If he was indeed lord. you know who, well then I don't know what the hell Harry meant. I mean, Harry had said before that you know who was a shriveled old man. Tom, well he was no old man that was for sure. He was the epitome of a Greek god. Tall in stature, very nice facial features, dark hair, beautiful eyes. The list goes on. We got to the end of the corridor and he turned to face me. The look he wore was one of pure malice. All I remember is that he pointed his wand at me and muttered something under his breath. My mind went fuzzy, and I suddenly felt very lightheaded and not myself. It was as if Tom were inside my head. Maybe he was.  
  
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All throughout supper, (with a group of death eaters no doubt), I wasn't myself. I saw mounds of food before me, all looking delicious and delectable and begging me to eat them. I wasn't going to eat though. I would show Tom I didn't need him. However, my brain seemed to disagree with my heart. I kept hearing, EAT IT NOW. Somehow, I still wonder how, I found my plate full and my hands leading eager portions towards my mouth. I tried to stop myself, but once I noticed the whole table looking at my weird display, I stopped resisting. Tom just glared at me. It was then I found myself thinking, "Ok Tom, if you want me to put on this little show to make you happy, I will." So I ate, perhaps not so willingly, but I ate. I was out of it during the whole of supper. I was there, I saw things happening, I touched utensils, I spoke words. But it wasn't me, it was someone else, someone, something, inside of my head. It was much later, and in a much more compromising situation that I regained control over my brain.  
  
The weeks passed by in an endless stupor. I don't remember much of that time because I was pretty much the living dead. A zombie that catered to everyone of my masters needs. I loved it though. I was as faithful as a puppy is to his boyhood master. I was devoted, completely and utterly devoted. I still think part of my devotion had something to do with those weeks that I don't remember. Something tells me I must have been bewitched into loving Tom. A spell or enchantment must have been cast, for when I finally came to, everything was much the same. Only, I could think for myself. My thoughts were as obsessive over Tom as I, myself, was! It drove me crazy and made me swoon at the same time. Anyway, the compromising situation that I found myself in, well it's one that still makes me blush to this day.  
  
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It was sometime during the early morning that I woke from my zombie like state. A pale light was creeping through the cracks the curtains made. Otherwise, my bed partner and me were enclosed in a completely dark room. It was the same bed I had awoken in (what I assumed to be) months earlier. What a coincidence. There was an overwhelming sense of safety and warmth next to whomever I had fucked the night before. I knew we had fucked for a fact, two facts actually. One, I was sore as hell, he must have been a good fuck; and two, both of us were completely devoid of any traces of clothing. Before opening my eyes entirely, I spooned my body with his. When I was good and comfortable, I turned to see who the lucky fuck was. Gasp, big surprise. It was old Tommy boy himself. For some odd reason, I didn't flinch when finding out who it was, I didn't even pull away. I stared wide eyed for a moment, snuggled back close again, and found myself dropping off to sleep. It was only when the warm body moved underneath my arms that I awoke fully. I felt Tom push me away and watched as he sat up jerkily. He made to leave the bed, but I stopped him, or tried.  
  
"Get your hands off of me Virginia," his tone was sour and the words slapped me hard. A look of shock came over my face. I knew this because I felt my jaw drop. Tears leapt to the corners of my eyes, unannounced and very unwelcome.  
  
"Stop being such a puss Virginia. Grow up for once, you haven't acted up like this for the last few weeks." Tom began to rummage around for his clothing.  
  
"That's because, you, you villain, you did something to make me obey you. But, no, not anymore, I can think for myself again Tom," I was angry, but more so, I was hurt. My eyes had been uncovered, I would no longer allow Tom to use me for his own pleasures, not unless he intended to give back.  
  
"Ahh, so it's worn off has it? Took you long enough, but then again you never were the brightest. what's that muggle expression? Brightest crayon in the box?" the tears leaked through with those last few words. How could he say such things to me? Was I really just his whore? His bitch, his little slut to have around when he was feeling horny? Is that all I was to him?  
  
"Tom," I said through tears, "do you mean that?" why I asked I still don't know. I knew what he would say. His cruelty knew no limits.  
  
"Shut your mouth, whore. I'll be back later, in the mean time, try and make yourself look halfway decent." He left, leaving me alone. All that was there with me were stinging words and rumpled sheets. Alone.  
  
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The way he said those things ripped what was left of my heart in two. He flung his words on me as if I were the one to blame. I had been out of my mind and he had been using ME! Not the other fucking way around. However much the words stung, I still obeyed. I got dressed in another whorish garment (it seemed as though Tom had pre-chosen my outfits) and sat there. Dark. Alone. Hurt. That's how I felt. And torn also, I guess. I loved Tom, but I hated Tom. Tom hated me. How could I let this happen? I wondered if my parents and family missed me, if they knew what had happened. They would be utterly disappointed. I was disappointed in myself. I was associating, fucking, and eating with dark wizards. I was one. I may not have killed muggles, or wizards or witches or preformed any illegal actions, but being Tom's whore alone was enough to make me one of them. I don't remember what it felt like to sleep with Tom. I was too much of a zombie. But somehow I found myself desperately wishing he would still come to me and touch me at night, even though I was no longer his mindless bitch.  
  
My thoughts drifted to Harry. Oh if he could see me now. A druggy, whore who slept with the most wanted man in the wizarding world. He'd hate me, despise me, be disgusted with me. Who gives a shit anymore? Harry never loved me, never. Not once in the MANY years of complete devotion I practically forced on him. Oh well. Not much mattered to me anymore. Weeks passed by, Tom did indeed come to me again. I stopped eating, I stopped living, I stopped being me. Drugs, sex and Tom. That's all that sustained my will to live. I longed for nights when Tom would let me curl up next to his pale body. I lived for the days when we'd share a joint and get caught up in almost love like sex. But then it would all come crashing down when I realized it was just the pot that made him believe he loved me. My life, was a hell hole. My goddamn life was a fucking hell hole. Oh look at me now. I was ashamed to look at what I had become, but no matter how much I thought about giving this shitty life up, it over took me, and I couldn't. I was stuck. Stuck for good.  
  
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	3. Unclean hands

Authors Note:  
Ginny is a bit OOC but I like her that way. Also, about the question can Gin only see Voldie as Tom? Well, that will be cleared up later in the story. Yes, there's no distinct plot line as of yet, but it does have one I assure you. The beginning and end are all finished, and the middle is mainly done, just got to get it down on the comp. Ok, so read on…. Sorry if the POV switch is confusing…  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PS: Disclaimer, I don't own anything HP.  
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            Harry sat there in his flat looking over the photographs time and time again. It killed him; he had thought Cho had loved him. Then he saw the photos, her with arms wrapped around him, him kissing her passionately, them asleep together in bed. He wondered how Ginny had managed to get all these, but even those wonderings couldn't shake off the feelings of anger and hurt that plagued him. Feeling fury rise within him, Harry crumpled one of the pictures in his hands and then threw it harshly against the coffee table. He wondered if that, that slut was with her lover at the moment. What would he say to her when she returned home? Should he give her a chance to defend her self? The pictures pretty much summed up every thing he needed to know. Flinging his wand around carelessly, Harry cleaned up the piles of garbage in a mad rush then made for the bedroom. There was no way in hell Cho would be staying there anymore…

                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry darling, I'm home!" a female voice called out to the dark room. Muttering some choice words, and with a flick of her wand, Cho Chang managed to light up the room. It was unusually tidy, and her trunk sat in the middle of it, articles of clothing and other personal effects thrown in wildly. A rush of angry feet sounded as Harry came out of the bedroom. His face was read and shaking in fury. Cho looked to the trunk and to Harry and was completely bewildered.  
"Harry, what is the matter?" she said in genuine shock. Her eyes glazed over a big orange envelope, but she thought nothing of it at the moment.  
"Why don't you tell me you slut!" his rage was let loose. As he shouted this at her, her eyes narrowed in offense.  
"How – fucking – dare you!" She screamed back, "You have no fucking right to call me that!!" He guffawed at her in half amusement half anger. Frantically, almost desperately, he began to wave the big envelope in her face.  
"Then fucking explain these! I'm sure it's QUITE by accident you happened to have another mans dick to play with!" he threw the envelope quite harshly at her feet, and then stood tapping his heel, waiting for her to see the contents. The dark eyes that stood out against her pale face widened even more as she scanned the photos in the envelope. Only a slight twitch of her face gave away any emotion, other then shock, that she was feeling.   
"Where did you get these?" she barely whispered.  
"So you don't deny them, you, you BITCH! How could you?!" Trembling and dripping with animosity, Harry kicked her trunk, which did nothing to help except give him a throbbing toe ache.  
"I'll get my stuff…" Cho wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she hurried towards the bedroom to collect the rest of her things.  
"I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU!! What was I to you, a fucking safeguard? Someone you could have to fall back on?? Go be with your fucking lover, just get out of my house NOW!!" Harry's face was drained of all colour as he yelled at the retreating Cho. Cho said nothing, she just gathered up her things and headed towards the door.  
"I'm sorry," she murmured in goodbye.  
"Get the fucking hell out!!" and then she was gone. A moment later, Harry stormed out of the flat and into the cold night air. What he needed now was a drink…

            A shaken Harry walked into the famous Leaky Cauldron almost drunk with anger. Looking around, he thought he saw the head of his archenemy leave with a drunken red head, but he allowed that he had just imagined it. Slamming himself down into an empty stool, Harry ordered a drink gruffly and brought it abruptly to his lips. The taste of alcohol burning down his throat caused some of the pain to ebb away, but most of it stayed, along with a bitter want for revenge. After a few drinks, the pain ebbed away, and all his thoughts drifted far from Cho. His curiosity had been invoked, however, when he saw Malfoy leaving with a familiar looking woman.  
"Tom," Harry asked a little blearily.   
"Yeh?" said a toothy inn keeper.  
"Who wassit that leftwith Malfoy jussnow?" his words were slurring, but he didn't care.  
"Why that was young Miss Weasley, I thought you'd be able to recognize 'er o' all people," Tom looked at the increasingly pissed Harry. He gave a bit of a toothy grin, and made to leave, but had second thoughts, so stayed instead. In a bit of a whisper, he told Harry something he must have considered either quite a scandal, or quite a secret.  
"They were both royally pissed you know, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if they were off somewhere going at-" Harry banged his glass down rather loudly at this. The action caused Tom to shut up and busy himself suddenly with a glass that had already been cleaned about 5 times.  
"How drunk wasshe?" Harry asked.  
"Well, she came in 'ere with a bad temper," Tom said all this with great importance as if the government were questioning him about something terribly important.  
"And then she drank 'bout 7 o' these filled to the brim with fire whiskey. After that I wouldn't give 'er any more cos' she was already in a right state… As for that Malfoy fella, well 'e made sure to only have a few light drinks, but 'e looked slightly thrashed when 'ey left…" Harry grimaced at the thought of this. Sure Ginny wasn't his girlfriend, or anything for then a friend really, but over the last two years, the sexual tension between them had been growing. Despite that, Harry insisted he was in love with Cho, so the two had never acted on their "feelings." True there was the occasional footsie game, or suggestive comments and looks, and some quite by accident gropes, but otherwise, it was strictly platonic between the two. However, Harry couldn't help but feel jealous whenever he saw Ginny with a boyfriend. This only increased her anger at him, seeing as he wouldn't be with her himself, but merely insisted that she stayed single. Harry didn't quite know what he felt towards Ginny. He knew she was his friend, and that she was quite attractive, but as to being with her? He just wasn't sure… Besides, he loved Cho, or he so he thought.

            Plunking some random coins down on the bar, Harry took his leave of the Pub, not really caring to wake up in some stranger's bed the next morning with a throbbing hangover. A bit unsteadily, Harry made his way out of the London side exit, and into the cold night air. It was July, but something about the weather, or perhaps his mood, made it seem unusually chilly. He remembered Ginny and Malfoy and wondered with a scowl what in gods name they could be doing. Shaking his head furiously, Harry walked towards his flat, trying to forget the incidents of this horrible night. It had been one hell of a birthday that was for sure…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Harry woke the next morning with a slight hangover. True he had been drunk last night, but he had been worse for wear before. Getting groggily out of bed, Harry made his way to the semi tidy kitchen. Some pictures lay spewed on the counter, reminding him of what he had, or rather Ginny had, caught Cho in. Suddenly very angry at those pictures, Harry tossed them in the lingering fire. Just as they were setting aflame in the hearth, a head popped in by way of floo. It was Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry!" she squeaked. Harry, who hadn't yet noticed the head sitting in the flames, jumped at the sound of her voice.  
"Blimey, you scared the bajesus out of me. What's up Molly?" Harry said while trying to calm his racing heart.  
"Have you, by any chance, seen Ginny?" her voice sounded with concern and anxiety. Harry thought back to the bar last night, but he couldn't quite remember if seeing Ginny there was a dream, or perhaps reality.  
"No… I don't think I have, why's that?" a concentrating scowl came over his face as he tried very hard to remember his drunken conversation last night.  
"Well, she didn't come home last night, and she was last to leave your place, I am of course assuming she left last night, and so I thought you might have an inkling as to where she'd be…" Mrs. Weasley rambled on and on in a worried mothers voice.  
"I'm not quite sure, but yes, she did in fact leave last night." He was rubbing his throbbing temples now, trying to remember.  
"Look, I'll send word if I figure anything out," Harry said, abruptly cutting off another of Mrs. Weasley's worried spiels. With a grateful nod and some parting words, Mrs. Weasley left the fire with a vague pop. Harry shook his head in a half confused half angry way and headed towards the shower. What he needed was a warm shower to ease his troubled thoughts…  
  
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Months later….

  
  
(Gin's POV)  
  
I woke up with a burning headache. 'Another damn hangover,' I thought. Feeling the bed beside me, I hoped that there would be a body beside my own. Sure enough, Tom was there. These were the only moments of true happiness I ever found in this god-forsaken place. It was when he was asleep and I could just look at him, touch him, and not have to fear his wrath. He had made quite clear to me before that there would never be anything between us, his explanation for this being that I was merely there to ease his sexual frustrations. In other words, I was his whore. Not exactly a comforting thought, but it kept me alive. I mean, how many times to you survive being controlled by You-know-Who, and then live to tell you shared a bed with him? Perhaps he would dispose of me when I grew ugly, or if I angered him. Those two thoughts kept me constantly aware. If he really would get rid of me like that I would do everything in my power to make sure I stayed attractive and that I did anything possible to please him. Why such a sudden change in loyalties? Well, it wasn't that sudden. If my calculations were correct I had been there a matter of months, perhaps 6 at the most. A lot can happen in 6 months. For one, people can realize that the path of "righteousness" isn't for everyone. It wasn't for me. No matter how attached I had been to my good girl, fight for right self, there would be no turning back. When introduced to evil, I had been injected with the sweetest poison of them all. Self indulgence. Sure I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I loved it. Oh the exhilarating feeling of breaking the rules… Now I knew why Fred and George were troublemakers, but they had only gotten a nibble of the kind of power I was feeling. The only thing missing was a tattoo on my forearm. I wanted to feel it burn into my flesh, I wanted the pain of it, and I wanted to be accepted. 

As Tom began to squirm awake, I pulled away slightly. I'm sure that my clinginess would probably send him into another selfish outrage. If there were one thing he hated more then disloyalty, it was love. If I had to grow into a cold-hearted bitch to stay alive, and to keep Tom in my bed, I would do just that. Pathetic obsession you say? Maybe, but there have been worse things…  
  
For example you ask? My ridiculous obsession with Harry Potter, that's what I'll tell you. You say, "Yes but the dark lord?" I say, yes the fecking dark lord, he's got a shit load of more sense then Harry Thickhead Potter. Bitter you ask? Yes. Very bitter, but victorious. If Harry could see me now, I'm sure that my little friend jealousy would pay him a well due visit. And guess what I would do if Harry came running after me trying to sway me off the road that will lead to destruction. (Not that he would come running mind you,) but if he did, I'd laugh my arse off and tell him to go back to Cho. What a pushover that guy is. Anyway, back to Tom and me.  
  
You ask me why I call him Tom? Well it'd be more proper to call him Sir or the Dark Lord or… Voldemort… even, but you see, Tom and I have a connection I guess. When we're fucking (I would say making love, 'cept he hates me) he allows me to call him Tom, but otherwise he's master to me. He will always be Tom to me; no amount of time can change that. Every night that he is with me he tells me, "_Virginia, your time is coming soon," _and I tell him in my obedient way, "_I know I deserve whatever I receive…"_ He just smirks as if to say "_Glad you can accept fate." _It would be depressing, that is, if I weren't already depressed. I think, and this may be blasphemous to Tom, but I think even he knows his power is not going to last. I mean, come on now, look at the way it's all ended in other stories. Good always triumphs. Well, if evil and power have to die, then Tom will be there to make sure it goes out with a bang. As to where I'll be, I can't tell as of now. There is no certainty in the future; only the painful knowledge of knowing your dreams may never come true. I've learned that and other things in my time here. Where we are, I am not quite sure. I do know this however, I am safe for the time being, and that's all that matters in an unstable world.  
  
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            As things progressed with my "initiation" into Tom's world, I began to see the faces behind the masks. I don't think Tom ever fully trusted me, but seeing as he could practically read minds, he would know if I were on the verge of betrayal. I would not think, not at the time, of ever betraying Tom. How could I? I was bewitched, enchanted, ensnared, stuck. Loyalty ran through the blood of all the Death Eaters, even those who weren't bewitched or thought they were. Once you had that searing pain on your forearm you were bound, by some sick force, to him forever. The two Death Eaters I met first were Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape. Now of course, seeing as I had known since my childhood that Severus was a spy, I should of, or could of said something. Something, however, some unseen force kept me from giving way to his secret. I don't understand why. I craved intimacy and trust from Tom, and giving Severus up would have sealed that partly.

            One day, over a late supper in my quarters, Tom came in earlier then usual. Upon seeing him enter, I got up abruptly and went to his side. I assumed then that he just wanted some sexual favour, or something of the like. I was wrong, for once he was there to talk. To simply talk.   
"Virginia," he said with a cold smile. His smile enchanted me. It filled me with a longing to break it into something of warmth and happiness.   
"Master," I said while lowering my head. He chuckled at my willing obedience.   
"Tonight, you may call me Tom…" my heart filled with glee. Tom, my precious, cold hearted Tom was allowing me this simple joy.  
"Tom," I said shyly. His cold hand cupped my chin and lifted my eyes to his own. They sparkled with some unknown lie, some unknown desperation.   
"You have always been, my dear, the epitome of beauty. Did you know that?" where was this coming from? What had he done with my Tom? Did he mean these beautiful words? I shook my head in a harsh and disbelieving no. Curling his lips, he kissed me gently on my lips. I wasn't beautiful, not anymore atleast. In the last 5 months I had lost so much weight it was incredible. My bones were visible beneath my skin and I had lost almost all colour.  
"You are beautiful to me," he whispered while kissing me again. I broke free.  
"Thank you, but…" he laughed.  
"You're confused? Don't be. I don't love you, but when I see a prize, I can't help but give it praise," I was crushed, in a sense. He was attracted to my body, not me.  
"Oh," I said while turning from him. Tom sure knew how to put a damper on my spirits.   
"Do you know why I chose you? Hmm?" chose me for what? What exactly did he mean.  
"I chose you because I knew you didn't belong in their make believe world. You belonged next to me, in a world that is real." It's harsh though Tom, harsh. As if reading my mind, he nodded and chuckled slightly.  
"Yes, it's harsh, but it's real. You deserve the truth, no matter how much it hurts." I understand.  
"Do you?" Yes Tom, I understand. I was to be his servant of sorts. To do his bidding. My hands would no longer be clean. Blood would be shed underneath my grip, I understood now. I was willing however.  
"Good." What would you have me do Tom? Where do I begin? Will you accept me fully? I stuck out my forearm in silent question.  
"There is no turning back, ever, after this point. Once I claim you as my own, you will die before you see the light again." I nodded. Take me. A vicious grin spread on his face as he grabbed my arm. He traced a few burning fingers over my translucent skin. Then, it happened. It hurt more then anything I remembered. White-hot pain flashed throughout my body, rippling from the red mark flashing on my skin. Within moments a black and irritated mark hung gloomily on my forearm. My head was spinning and whirling in pain. Then, as soon as it had started, it ended. My arm was numb, the pain had ceased, and in its place was a feeling of euphoria. I was officially part of the pack.  
  
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(Switch of POV)  
  
            Severus Snape rushed down the halls of Hogwarts with much urgency. It had been 6 months since the mysterious disappearance of the youngest Weasley child. Just last night he had confirmed the suspicion growing in his mind. She was with Voldemort. The last one to have seen Ginny Weasley was a barkeep named Tom… how very ironic. Harry Potter had been questioned also about the whereabouts of Miss Weasley, seeing as he had seen her also that night. Last night, however, Snape had felt the burning on his left forearm and had met the newest member of the dark lords band of followers. Ginny Weasley. He and Pettigrew, the sniveling rat of a Death Eater, had been the only two present during the meeting. Voldemort, though being a master at reading minds, had not picked up on Snape's well-disguised shock when he saw the unmasking of Ginny Weasley. Knowing full and well whom he must tell about this mistake, Snape knew that Molly Weasley's worries would not be appeased by this information. In fact, they would most likely come to a breaking point. While Snape did not know her exact reasons for being there, he assumed she wasn't a spy. He had overheard rumours from others in league with the Dark Lord of a red headed whore. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together. Increasing his pace, Snape glided up to the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmasters office.  
"Fizzing Wizbees!" he practically shouted at the idle stone. At once it leapt to life granting him entrance into the old mans lair.  
  
"Severus, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Dumbledore asked in his jovial way. He seemed to have no idea of the unpleasantness of this visit.  
"He has the Weasley girl Dumbledore," Snape got straight to the point. The elder mans eyes lowered in pain a bit. His voice, when he spoke next, was devoid of all its jolliness.   
"I see. We will inform her parents at once…" he got up and conjured a fire.  
"That's not all," the potions master cut in. Holding the floo powder in his hands, Dumbledore paused and looked questioningly at Severus.  
"She has received the dark mark. Though she has not given me up to the Dark Lord, my suspicions tell me she is not on our side…" a deep breath was taken by the old man.  
"I was expecting this…"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Occulumency

"Expecting what? For Miss Weasley to betray the order?" Snape was thoroughly confused. Could Dumbledore foretell the future? With a heavy sigh, Albus Dumbledore made his thoughts known.  
"Is there any evidence against Miss Weasley that insinuates she has betrayed the orders secrets yet? Because if there is Severus, I ask you to speak now" When Severus remained in a silent frown, Albus continued. "I have been expecting that someone very close to Harry would be temporarily swayed. When Miss Weasley was reported missing, my suspicions were all but confirmed – " Snape interjected,  
"Wait? Temporarily swayed? No Albus, I saw her… she has no heart anymore. She has become a callous and cold woman, she shares a bed with the Dark Lord for Christ's sake!" Dumbledore sat in silence, not out of shock, but out of contemplation.  
"I realize the gravity of the situation Severus," he said firmly, "however, as I have proven in the past, I believe there is always hope and second chances for everyone." Dumbledore sat in calm silence, letting Snape take in the words. With a severe nod, Snape understood what Dumbledore had meant. He was speaking of Severus himself, who though had once been swayed by the powers of darkness, had been given a second chance, and that had made all the difference.  
"We shall need to inform her family at once." It was not a question, but a statement, though it came wavering and hard from Snape's lips. With a glint in his eye, Dumbledore tossed the handful of floo powder into the already stoked fire. Moments later, Arthur and Molly Weasley were on their way to the old man's office.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Arthur Weasley was afraid and made no attempt to hide it. Though Dumbledore had said it concerned Ginny, he had not said in which way. The gravity in which Dumbledore had asked them to come only confirmed their worries. Ginny was in harms way. The balding man paced back and forth inside of his worn house, waiting for his anxious wife to be ready. A moment later, Molly Weasley appeared in frayed robes and took his hand. With a slight squeeze of the hand, Molly gave her husband a reassuring nod. Smiling weakly, he disappeared next to her, and a moment later she had also apparated to the village of Hogsmeade…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Ginny Weasley sat in the dark bedchamber examining the mark on her arm. The irritation had ceased for the moment, but there was still a dull pain that lingered. Smiling weakly, with a bit of a gulp, she knew what she had done. Meeting two Death Eaters earlier had also confirmed her decision. She did not feel saddened by this, on the contrary, she felt quite elated. Very quickly she was moving up in Voldemort's ring of power. Smirking to herself, she thought back to that afternoon. Snape and Pettigrew had appeared distraught when Tom summoned them. However, one of their faces seemed to relax when they saw that the meeting was one of mere privilege. The other, however, seemed even more unnerved when he saw the woman unmasked. Ginny knew why, this was her potions professor from her school days. Although she had forgotten temporarily about his position as spy, she made no notice of it in front of Tom. For some reason she did no discern this information, nor any of the other secrets the order had hidden. Some unseen force kept her at bay, making her wonder about her own loyalty to Tom. She quickly shook the thought off though, she loved Tom, she merely loved the thought of keeping a secret. Yes, that was it, she concluded…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Molly, Arthur, I suggest you take a seat…" Dumbledore looked aged and worn as he offered the two worried parents a seat. He sat like a withered man who had once portrayed the very being of gallantry and glory. Clasping his hands firmly, he waited for them to comply. Once they had, he continued.  
"You may have figured out that this has something to do with the whereabouts of your youngest child," he waited for their nods of confirmation, "I have the displeasure of saying that I know full and well where she is." He paused a moment. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be on the brink of tears, Arthur tried in vain to comfort her with a reassuring hand.   
"She's, not, with… You-Know-Who, is she Albus?" The balding man asked weakly. The twitch of his lip and the grave look on his face gave the old man away. Choking down a sob, Molly Weasley searched frantically for a handkerchief, Arthur sat in shocked stillness.  
"She is, indeed, with Lord Voldemort."  
"Albus, w-we must get her back, we have t-to!" Molly sobbed. Looking down at his lap uncomfortably, Albus sighed deeply.  
"It has also come to my attention that she is not being held captive-"  
"But you just said-"  
"Arthur, please hear me out," the older man asked kindly. With a nod, Arthur Weasley complied to his request.  
"Miss Weasley is being held there at her own request. It seems she has been initiated into Lord Voldemort's most loyal ban of followers – the Death Eaters." Both the Weasley's went pale as these words came slowly out of Dumbledore's mouth.   
"You, you mean to say that our, our little Ginny is one of t-them?" Arthur broke what seemed like an infinite silence.   
"Yes," Albus said plainly. His voice betrayed little emotion other then that of tiredness. His eyes, however, gave away the pain he found in saying these things. By this point, Molly Weasley was crying hysterically and not even Arthur's comforting could help.  
"Why Albus why? What a disgrace, after all we taught her, why?" Molly managed to choke out. The sparkle had all but left Albus' eye.  
"Molly, there is always hope. We don't know anything for certain yet, and until then, we must hope for the best. In the mean time, the Order will need relocating and some other adjustments. I understand that you will need time to accept this, and I offer you my sincerest condolences." The couple looked at Albus' distraught face and nodded. They knew he was being sincere, and they trusted his words. If all they could do was hope, they would place every ounce of hope in Ginny's direction. After all, nothing could be confirmed yet.  
"I will see to it that Severus looks into this a little further, until then, I ask you not to distress too much, but to take some much needed rest." Nodding once again, the ashen-faced couple stood up. Offering his hand in a respectful parting, Arthur Weasley shook the old mans hand. Through many tears, the two left the castle in haste.   
  
                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The family took the news as expected. Ron blowing up swearing he'd kill that bloody bastard, the twins sitting in grave silence, Charlie and Bill shedding a few tears for their baby sister, and Molly going completely into hysterics again. Percy was not there. His loyalties to Fudge and to discipline stayed throughout the years, much to the disappointment of the family. Harry and Hermione had also been present for the sad retelling. Harry had said nothing, but inwardly he cursed himself. Hermione went to comfort Ron at once, but it was in vain. He would not be comforted. The state of those in the room only worsened to an acute point when they heard about the initiation. All, however, refused to believe that Ginny had done so of her own will. With much determination, the Weasley family, plus two, decided they wouldn't give up on the girl they had once known and loved…  
  
                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Severus Snape looked down the ice corridor that his feet wandered. He had been sent here on instructions to speak to Miss Weasley. If, in fact, her heart was totally unreachable, this could mean the end to his spying and quite possibly his life. Snape felt he owed it to Dumbledore, however, so he agreed to the fatal mission. His feet paused in front of a heavy wooden door. Moans and other sounds were emitting from inside the room, and with a look of blatant disgust, Severus stepped away cautiously. Waiting just around the corner, he stood counting the minutes. Finally, in what seemed like hours later, Severus heard the thud of the heavy door closing. Waiting for a moment, he turned cautiously to see the retreating back of his former Lord and Master. With a shudder, he crept up to the door. Pushing it open gently, he found himself in a very dark bedchamber. Sounds of running water came from somewhere in the room along with the sounds of shuffling feet.  
"Tom?" a female voice called out. Closing the door in a hurry, lest they be overheard, Snape walked to the figure of Ginny Weasley. He could just make out her eyes, squinting in the bad light.  
"Professor Snape…" she said, confusion dawning on her.   
"Be quiet Miss Weasley, and for the love of God please put something on," he turned away blushing as he realized her nude form. With a little gasp of embarrassment, she slipped into a limp bathrobe, and crossed her arms in frustration.  
"What are you doing here? Do you know if he finds you in here that'll be the end of you – " a hand clamped over her rapid mouth.  
"I am," he paused slightly, "quite aware of the situation Miss Weasley. I only came to ask you what the hell you think you're doing!" his voice was hushed but hoarse. Feeling a sharp bite on his hand, he released her mouth from its confines.  
"The Order already has one spy, so you need pretend no longer. This is MUCH to dangerous a situation for you to be in Miss Weasley, your family is worried sick –" it was she who interrupted this time.  
"What makes you think that I am pretending? Do you see the mark on my arm here? Did you hear the sounds coming from this room? Did it really sound like a joke to you?" Snape stepped back aghast. He had expected this of many people at Hogwarts, but never of the silly little girl who once held a crush to Harry Potter. How someone could become so blatantly changed in such little time boggled his mind completely. This had something to do with Potter.  
"You had better kill me now Virginia," his voice cold and emotionless. She smirked slightly.  
"Why would I do that?" the look of disgust, horror, and confusion that crossed his face was not at all attractive.  
"You, you have secrets about me that would do your master much good. You could be his queen with the information you have, if you're going to kill me, I ask you to do it now." He stood proud and fearless, though inside he was really quaking.   
"No Professor, I have better uses for you…" her lips curled into a sardonic grin.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Occulumency Severus?" Dumbledore asked curiously. With a curt nod, Snape spoke again.  
"Yes Headmaster, she said she wanted me to teach her Occulumency…" his face contorted into a half worried and half confused frown. Dumbledore's lip twitched into the faintest of smiles.  
"I think, perhaps, Mr. Snape, that my predictions about Miss Weasley are not so far gone as most had thought." The headmaster said nothing further; he merely nodded when his colleague looked at him in an asking way. Biting his lip, Snape excused himself and exited the headmaster's office. The old man knitted his brow in delighted concentration. He had his suspicions about what Miss Weasley was up to, and if any of them proved true, then there would be no denying she was not entirely swayed by Tom Riddle's fancy words, or eloquent promises. No, there was still hope.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(GINNY POV)

            'Great,' I found myself thinking, 'now my whole damned family knows.' It wasn't so bad that Dumbledore knew, I mean, he was very astute for an older man. He seemed to know just about everything going on in the wizarding world, but then again, that was probably due to his many spies. I don't know why I didn't just kill his git of a spy right then, but something told me, "no, not yet…" So I didn't. I told him instead to teach me Occulumency. I knew it would be a crucial thing to learn if I were to keep his secret from Tom. You're probably thinking, "why keep secrets from Tom?" well, my answer would have to be this: he doesn't love me, he never will, and yet he has me in his hands like his little play toy because he knows of my obsession with him. I want to hold some power over him, and this, this is the best way I know how. Maybe staying with Tom for so long has taught me some tricks of my own. Let me assure you know, however, this means nothing. I merely want the thrill of holding a part of myself back from Tom. The only way I can do that is through Occulumency lessons. It was sort of embarrassing having Snape overhear that previous little encounter, but oh well, it was worth it I suppose. I mean, it's not as if the Death Eaters don't know what Tom and I do behind closed doors. Yet, I still blushed even at the thought of it. There was no way he was going to let this go away unnoticed. I could almost see my family's faces as he told them. But, as soon as the thought came, I brushed it away. What did I care for their opinions anyway? Still, I couldn't help but gulp back a tinge of guilt as I thought of my mother's reaction to all of this. Oh well, sometimes giving up what you knew is better then living a lie…  
  
            In the months that followed, Occulumency lessons went quite well. I think Tommy boy was a bit suspicious though. Oh well, two can play at the bitchy secret game Tom, so get over it. It wasn't surprising to me when I began to feel bitter towards Tom; after all, I had felt that same bitterness towards Harry in months past. I think I was mainly angry that he couldn't, or rather wouldn't, love me the way I intended him to. Oh well, if that's the way it had to be, that's the way it would be. Perhaps the fates were punishing me for some former folly, but either way, it didn't matter to me. I was closer to Tom then I had been in years, and even through my bitterness, I liked it. Anyway, Occulumency lessons progressed quite well, and by the time I had spent a year in that hidden lair, I was a fully-fledged occulumens. I thought to myself how good it would come in handy, boy was I right…

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AUTHORS NOTES:  
  
Thanks for the nice reviews you guys. So maybe there is a little hope for Ginny, but maybe not. After all, she really has go a hardened heart. But, I won't say anything, I'll just warn you now, if you're expecting a happy ever after ending, stop reading now, because that is not going to happen. I will hint about the next chappie, Ginny gets a very unexpected visitor, and does a very unexpected thing. That's all I'm saying… ;-) 


	5. I never wanted to feel regret

Authors notes: as to the clever guess one of my reviewers had, the answer is no. However, good guess. Someone else from Ginny's past, however, enters her life again, and she does something cruel, and learns something crucial. So keep reading… oh and, I apologise for the delayed post… thanks for reading… oh and this chappie is quite angsty, so beware… oh, language warning. Lots of fucking language in here… no pun intended.

PS: Don't own anything HP, tis a shame though, for then I would have one claim to brilliance… Ahh, well, a lass can dream can't she?

I felt myself going cold. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't something I thoroughly enjoyed either. My heart was gone, and in it's place there was a dark empty space where emotions ran dry. In other words, I was dead. True my body still functioned, and my brain still had thoughts flowing through it, but I had forgotten what it felt like to care, what it felt like to… love. Then I realized something. If I had forgotten how to love, then I couldn't love Tom anymore. It was a little startling at first, but then again it did make sense. No longer did I have undesirable urges to constantly be in his presence, no longer did I feel incomplete when he didn't make his way to my bed, no longer did I call him master out of loving obedience. No, I didn't love Tom, but I didn't feel sadness in discovering this. It made me smile, actually, almost as if it were meant to be. I don't know for certain, but I almost was relieved to discover this. Tom, on the other hand, already knew…

"Virginia," his ice like voice drawled. It sent shivers up my spine every time he said my name. Not shivers of pleasure, more like shivers of… foreboding.

"Tom," I answered smartly. I could almost see the sneer forming on his face, for I hadn't called him master. No, not anymore… 

"You don't love me, do you?" His voice sounded from the bath where he was seated. Ha, so the bastard was observant? I guess being the best Dark Lord of the century comes with the job requirements of observance… How can I joke at a time like this? Why the hell not? I mean, I could use _some_ amusement in my life…

"No," that was my plain reply. Not any gushy, "No Tom, I'm so sorry, I don't…" No witty, "Who could love you?" remarks… No. Just no. He laughed. 

"Good, it will make this… arrangement… so much easier for us both." Yes, easy, just what I needed. I was, after all, holding that big secret from him. Severus and I had been meeting secretly for quite some time now… Tom did _not_ need to find this out.

"Yes, it will." Hah, I guess I really am the ice queen. Who gives a shit anymore? I certainly don't, I mean… I'm happy here… really, I am! Don't believe me? Let me tell you this, I have wealth, I have power, and I have… I have… 

"I have a present for you, Virginia…" Again with the drawl! But, he had a gift for me!! Another thing to be happy about…

"I'd like to see it." See the thing about Tom and I is there was no forced politeness. We both knew what we wanted, and didn't bullshit getting there. It was strangely – pleasant. 

"Come here first, we'll go see it in a second." Oh great, another round of bumping uglies with each other… That man – err – monster is insatiable…

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Tom Riddle, more formally known as – Lord Voldemort – led Ginny Weasley down a long dark corridor. It was nothing unusual for the two to be seen together. While most death eaters, even the higher up ones, could barely hope to kiss the edge of his robe, Ginny Weasley was "privileged" so to speak, and did practically everything in the presence of Tom. However, there was some strange formality to this particular venture. Virginia was blind folded, and instead of being dressed in the slaggish way that Tom usually insisted upon, her dress was of bland conservativeness. It was a strange sight indeed, but the few minions that saw them passing said nothing but merely faded into the shadows, thoroughly confused. 

            Tom, however, would say nothing, but simply smirk at Ginny's pathetic pleas to know what was going on. 

"Patience, is a virtue my dear…" he said callously. A guffaw was let out on Ginny's behalf at hearing Tom speak of things such as virtue…

"One which I don't possess, and neither do you!" Silence was the witty retort to Ginny's bashing. Tom merely led her on until they came to a heavy oaken door. The creaking of heavy wood could be heard, and Ginny felt herself being led through a doorway. 

            The air inside the chamber was cold, and from the sound of it, another person was already there. Muffled cries sounded in terror from the person or thing that was sitting there. Virginia stood in complete rapture as she anxiously awaited having her eyes opened. Though curious, she was not quite sure she would like this gift. It consisted of some form of life, and that was enough to send her mind reeling. Fortunately, her Occulumency skills came into play here.

"Are you… prepared, m'dear?" came Tom's breath on the shell of her ear. With a shiver and a suppressed shudder, Ginny gave a curt nod.

            Lightning and thunder crashed inside her minds eye, and for a second the redhead had trouble breathing properly. Regaining her composure quickly, Ginny formed a glare upon her face.  
"What is this – this, _filth_ doing here Tom?" she said with unwaveringness. Tom's brow formed into an amused look.

"This – _mudblood_ - my dear girl, is your gift." 

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            What the bloody hell did he have to bring _her_ here for? As if the knowledge that all my family and friends (not the mention the whole damn ministry,) knew of my decision hadn't been enough, he had to bring _her_ here! Good thing for me I know longer felt obligated towards my family or friends anymore. I mean, if that was the case I would have broke down then and there and probably would have gone running back into the arms of wonder boy… Oh gods, why is everything so fucked up? On second thought, don't answer that… So what the hell am I supposed to do with a gift like this? Hopefully, I'm allowed to dispose of it…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'll let you two have some time to get… reacquainted… shall I?" Tom asked in a malicious voice. Damn him! Damn him to goddamn hell! My jaw was rigid, but I gave him a forced nod anyway. In a second, he was gone. She, on the other hand, was still there. I could see the blatant fear in her eyes. She looked like a bug about to be squashed. What surprised me most, however, is that she looked even more surprised to see me here. I guess those daft buggers back home actually thought that perhaps ickle Ginny had just been captured and was being forced to stay here. Daft pricks – the lot of them! They can go to damned hell also…

"Well, this is… certainly a shock…" somehow it felt… surreal to be talking to her. Actually, it was damned near impossible! She nodded her head in compliancy. Perhaps, perhaps I should take the handkerchief off… So that's what I did.

"G-ginny?" Ha, I almost laughed right here. No, it's the bloody Easter bunny you stupid arse! Of course it's me!

"Hermione…" 

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What the hell do you mean Dumbledore?!" came a loud and concerned voice.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm sure it would not be too much to ask for you to have a seat?" The old man spoke as if it was the calmest time in the world. Even in his enraged state, the youngest Weasley son complied. There was some edge about the elder man that made you want to be calm, be still… be obedient. 

"You – you said that Snap – Prof. Snape said that – Mione's there… That they have her… that, that –" it was quite pathetic, the scene that Ron made, in a heart wrenching way. A grave nod from the bearded man made the redhead pale considerably. Those standing on the sidelines couldn't help but feel heartbroken, not only because their friend was gone, but also for this man who was so obviously in love with her.

"This is my fault…" came a whispered voice. Dumbledore looked up to see the twisted brow of Harry Potter. His face was etched with pain, with concern, with… remorse.

"No Harry. This is not your fault in the slightest," said Dumbledore, in a very consoling manner. A persistent shake of his head, however, had Harry convinced otherwise.

"No! First it was Cedric, then – and then Sirius. Then there was Prof. McGonagall, and Neville, and Mr. Bagman, and – and," with a frustrated kick of his foot and the turn of his heel, Harry stormed out of the circular office. No one bothered to stop him. Mrs. Weasley, however, ran after him.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ginny," came her pathetic voice. Shut up wench…

"What?" I was in no mood for chit chat. What in gods name did he want me to do with her? Kill her? Easier said then done… I grew up with this girl – she used to be my best girl friend. Jesus Christ, what is that bastards problem?!

"I'm, I'm scared…" damn her and her innocence. You have a lot to learn mudblood… 

"Shut up wench," I didn't want to listen anymore. No no no no! I wasn't going to listen! 

"Ginny, why am I here?" I thought I said be quiet!? Don't you know how to follow directions?

"Shut up," my patience (ha, what patience?) was wearing thin. Why can't she just shut up? I don't want to be reminded of the life I left behind. Hearing your voice brings back memories of family… of Hogwarts… of… Harry.

"What if I never get home? What if I can't tell Ron I love him one more time? Ginny, why are you here? Why? Ginny? We love you… Your family… me… Dumbledore… Harry –" 

"SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP!" Does she just not get it? They don't care. If they had cared they would have bothered to notice a long time ago. And besides, I don't love any of them anymore. Why does it hurt then? Tom says wounds that hit the heart are hard to heal… He should no – having that muggle bastard as a father and all…

"Ginny! Don't you care? Don't you care?" Ha, you pathetic, babbling, puny little wench. Do I care? Do I?…

"No. Why would I care? I don't love you, or my family, or that barmy old man!" Ha. That should satisfy her little thirst for knowledge. Damn Hermione, you always have to get an answer, eh?

"What about Harry?" What?

"What about him?" Oh damnit, not this old story again…

"Don't you love him?" Ha, ha, ha! You must be even stupider then I thought. Love, him? Naw. 

"I never loved Harry. It was merely an… infatuation with the unobtainable." Nice and witty, to the point… Yes, a perfect retort.

"I think that that is a lie. I think V-Voldemort brainwashed you to say that." Smack. I never meant to hit her, I swear. She just doesn't know when to shut her mouth!! I see the red mark starting to form on her face, yet I feel no regret. How dare she tell me what or what not I feel!!

"How – dare – you!" I see the tears smarting in her eyes and I want to hurt her! I want to draw blood! Why the hell does she have to be so infuriating?

"He loves you." I stop in my tracks. What the hell does she mean by that? No – I won't get caught into that again. I gave myself up for him once before, and he didn't notice. If he had loved me he would have cared. Besides, I'm incapable of loving anymore.

"I have no more time to listen to your petty lies, Tom will be needing me." Hmph.

"Needing you for what? A quick bedtime romp?! I'm disgusted of you! You - you whore! You disgusting slag! I used to be your friend, I loved – I love you! And – and there are people who still love you despite what you've done! How can you do this? You know what you are? A piece of ass! A slag! A disgusting, bed warming whore!" 

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had no right - she had no right whatsoever! It's not my fault that there is blood on that floor right now. It's not my fault! SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT! If she hadn't said that she wouldn't be lying there in her own blood right now. I hate her, I hate her, I HATE HER! Why do I hate her? Probably because she spoke the truth… you know what they say, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad!" Oh god, oh god, I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! It just happened. She was rambling, and she wouldn't shut up, and it hurt too much! And then, oh god, and then… I'm sorry. Not that anybody is here to hear me, but I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to kill her. I didn't intend on killing her, I just… It just… hurt. Oh god, oh god! No! I worked hard to get where I am! I worked hard not to feel! No. I can't feel remorse! I can't feel hurt at what she said. No… I can't… can I? No… no… I'm sorry… I'm fucking sorry…

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, you taught the mudblood a lesson, did you?" Oh god, I don't want to talk, don't make me talk.

"I killed her." I see the shock mixed with amusement on his face. How can he even mock her? He is a mudblood himself! Damn him! Damn Malfoy! Damn that stupid wonder boy – Potter! 

"Well, I certainly was expecting that… but I must say… I have taught you well." No. No! NO!! Do you hear me Tom? Do you? NO! I am sick of it! Do you get what I just did? I JUST FUCKING KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!! I FUCKING KILLED HER! Her blood is on my hands! Her blood is fucking on my hands.

"Yes… master." I fucking hate it here. I fucking hate him. He just laughs. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. It doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done. I fucking killed my best friend. Fuck. Fuck. I am going to hell. I am the worst person to ever walk this earth. How did I get myself into this mess? Drugs – sex – curses – Malfoy – euphoria – high – blood. I am so fucked up.

"Tom, I'm…" fucked up, "tired… I'd like to sleep now." God, I just need time to think! I just need some fucking time to think! This doesn't change anything. Put it behind yourself. Put it away, don't think of it! No, I fucking killed her! I just killed her! And, why did you kill her Virginia? Because she cared about you, that's why you fucking whore. That's all you'll ever be, a whore! A disgusting whore that no one loves. You are disgusting. She was right about you. Damn you, you little bitch! Fuck you, fuck you! 

"Yes Virginia, it has been a long day. I will expect you tomorrow night…" Insatiable, horny, fucking bastard. Fuck him, fuck him! Instead, I nod my head. I comply! I let him have control over me. Yes Tom. Yes, I'll obey you! You're security. You're comfort. You're… happiness? No, not fucking happiness. Happiness is age 13. Summers at the Burrow. Christmas's at Hogwarts. Happiness is 14. Harry and Ron playing chess. The DA. Dumbledore – old barmy bastard… Happiness… no, it doesn't matter. I fucking killed her. They are going to hate me now. Whatever truth she held is gone now. And why? All because – I fucking killed her. I have her fucking blood on my hands. Dead. Gone. Fuck it all…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            That night, I cried. I cried like a fucking baby. I can't believe it. I killed her. I have to do something, I have to make it right! Yah, sure, like fucking killing your once best friend, oh and future sister in law, is ever going to be alright… Yah, that's right you little fucker, try and redeem yourself! They'll just laugh at your sorry ass. I have to try though. I have to know the truth. You know what the last thing she said to me was? You want to know? I'll goddamn tell you…

"Ginny," she says, "Ginny, I'm sorry… Harry's sorry… he loves you… he's been an ass," wow, Hermione, cursing? It must fucking be true…

"He – he never wanted to hurt you," too late, "but it's true. Ginny, get yourself out of here, I believe you have some heart left. Ginny, we love you," and then I fucking killed her. Dammit. So now I have to find out! I have to do something… apologise, explain, anything… I can't go back. No, not even Harry with his never-ending supply of good cheer and love to all could love me now. No. But I have to find out… I have to explain… I have to… 

I fucking killed her. Damn. Damn me, and damn my stupid nonexistent brain. Damn Tom. Damn life. I want to die. I'm going to fucking kill myself one day… How did I let myself get here? Why am I so fucked up? I'm sorry… When I wanted to be different, I didn't mean evil. Then when I was evil, I didn't want to kill. Then when I had killed, I didn't want to regret. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry…

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC….

Hey duckies… there are going to be two, possibly three more chappies after this. I'm not sure, it depends on how I split them up… but anyways… yah, lots of angst and language in here. Sorry if it offended you, but if so, no flames please. So, yah, she killed Hermione. Golly, it made me so mad writing that… but yah… and, well there's more to come. You'll see, I don't want to give too much away… oh and, if you're expecting a happy ending, go away. No, the ending on this tale is tragically bittersweet. Like it's sad, but then something happens to make it not quite as sad… yet sadder in it's own way. Anyway, enough of that… just read and see. Sorry for the delay, and thanks to all the lovely reviewers who took time to leave a comment! Ciao. ~Jill 


	6. So fucked up

Authors notes: yes, two updates in one day… spectacular of me I know… I simply ditched my chemistry class work, and took out my writing journal, and typed this instead. Simple solution really ;) Tehe to ashleyconnor… yah, well before today's updates it had been FAR too long since I updated. Tehe… good times… ok, angst galore… :-(

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            The whole Weasley family was assembled inside the circular office once again. Along with the entourage of redheads sat a raven-haired man, a hook-nosed man, and a weary old werewolf. Some strange presence of malcontent told those in the room that the meeting was not one of good news. The look on the hook-nosed man also told them this was not a meeting of good cheer. When Dumbledore finally sat down with a weary sigh, those who had been letting their minds wander stood on the very edge of their seats – hoping against hope that their suspicions had been… wrong. The old man cleared his throat.

"I suppose you all know the reason for which we've gathered." He paused and looked around the circle. Each person gave a vague nod – signaling that they knew about Hermione's capture.

"I'm afraid that there are no pleasantries associated with this impromptu gathering. As my colleague and friend has just informed me, a sudden turn of events has happened - one which I am very concerned about," sighing wearily and sitting up straight in his chair, Dumbledore continued.

"It seems that Ms. Granger has passed on, or rather, been murdered." A collective gasp sounded in the room and a sob could be heard in Ron's general direction.  
"I'll kill the bastard," Ron muttered miserably.   
"I'm afraid, Mr. Weasley, that that is not your duty. I do, however, offer my condolences and say that Ms. Granger will, indeed, be sorely missed." Harry let out a soft growl like noise at Dumbledore's speech. While the Weasley's sat comforting each other – though mostly comforting Ron – Harry sat contemplating the situation. He was appalled as to how Dumbledore could appear to show sorry yet look so restrained.

"Who?" Harry ventured. Mrs. Weasley looked up in apparent shock. The look on her face said, "What do you mean 'who?'?" The headmaster set his face into his hands and gave an audible sigh. It was Severus, however, who spoke up.

"Ms. Weasley." 

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            It's been a month since that damned night. I can't fucking believe myself, but in a way I think it was meant to be. It made me discover things, things too late, but still… I need to get out of this life. Sure I can never go back to normal life, but Tom… Tom is dying. Well, not really… I mean, his power is, and along with his power down he goes… So call me a coward, I won't deny it. I am sick of these power trips, these, corporation games. Life, to me, has become one big power struggle. Everyone wants control. Everyone wants to play with the big boys. Not me, not anymore. I'm sick of it. When I wanted to be different, I wanted to be a nonconformist. Now look at me! I am just as bad, if not worse, as those groveling pigs who kiss Tom's filthy robe. I think, I think I need to write a letter. I can't be the one to end this whole fucked up mess entirely, but I can be the beginning of the end…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Albus Dumbledore sat in his study as a wearied old man. The days since Voldemort had regained power had been like lifetimes to him. It seemed that with each passing day, week, month, or year, the terror got worse, the burdens got heavier, and the pain of his loved ones grew unbearable. Sitting in a slumped position, the old man thought over the past months events. Ms. Granger had gone missing. Severus reported that she was in Voldemort's lair. Then, then, she was dead, and at the hands of the youngest Weasley. A sigh escaped his weathered lungs at the thought of how wrong his predictions had been. At least they had the information as to where Voldemort was hiding out. Now all the order needed to do was formulate an attack. At the moment, however, the plans would have to wait, for a tawny owl sat rapping at Dumbledore's window. Getting up, Dumbledore let the owl in. The owl, however, merely dropped a letter very unceremoniously on his desk and then promptly left out the same window. The handwriting on the envelope was familiar, very familiar.

"_Dear Headmaster, _

_I took the liberty of opening this letter. It is from the Weasley girl. Don't ask how, but somehow I managed to smuggle it to the nearest post. Read immediately, then burn, upon instructions from Ms. Weasley. I apologise for reading it, but I had to check for hexes and such. _

_Regards,_

_S. Snape"_

Blinking, almost in disbelief, Dumbledore scanned the note once more and then tore up the envelope with much haste.

"Professor…" 

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            I don't fucking know how I got that letter out, untouched, but it happened. I still go to sleep every night with the fear of not waking up. I mean, he could slit my throat at any time and have a valid reason. I betrayed him. God–fucking–damn it doesn't matter any more. I don't have a side, I don't belong to anyone. He can't know this though. He can't even get wind of it. He can't get suspicious of me. That would ruin everything completely. Oh gods, now I know why you've fated some things to happen. But still, why did I have to kill her?! Fucking why?! God, I never thought I'd feel remorse for being the way I am… but then again, it's not every day you kill your once best friend. Anyway…

            Severus snuck the letter out for me. I can see the blatant distaste on his face when he looks at me. I think he was fonder of Hermione then he let on… But he promised to deliver it anyway, I hope he proves true… I think that once it begins I'll be going… I wonder if there is a hell? I wonder if there is an afterlife… I guess if there is I'll be going to the more unpleasant of the two. Damn, now I sound all morose and depressed. Good thing Tom hasn't noticed yet. No, Occulumency definetly is useful… The daft bugger, he's so caught up in preparation for whatever the fuck he's planning that he wouldn't notice betrayal unless it smacked him right into his fucking ugly face. 

Oh, have I not tell you? Yah, ever since my little "I don't love you Tom" escapade, I have started to see him for what he is. A monster. Yah, day by day, little by little, the fucking antichrist has started to look more and more like the descriptions I always hear. Red eyes, skeletal body, clammy skin, veins showing. He's a real picture, that one. A real picture of SHIT! Yah, no more handsome Tom to fuck my brains out every goddamn night. No, instead I get Lord Voldie himself. Goddamn, I've become such a bitter person… oh well… I deserve it. I deserve so much shit it's not even funny… But anyway… yah, so I've got the dark lord of the century coming to my room every night, but I have to put up with it. No suspicion, right? Right… it's all for the "good" cause… ha… this world? Good? That's the biggest load of shit I've ever heard… there's nothing even remotely good left in this world. 

Well, perhaps that's a lie… There's my family… and Harry. But they wouldn't have me anymore. I don't blame them one bit though. I'm a fucking asshole. A… whore. That's all I've ever been to Tom. I see it now. Just a whore, a piece of ass, a quick lay, someone to bump uglies with. Yah… Hermione was right. She was so fucking right that I wish I could turn back time. If I had to, I'd go in her place. Yah, but wishes don't do anything except waste time. See how cynical I am? Ha, ha… let's all have a good laugh at fucking Lord Voldemort's little bitch… Well, there's still the letter… there's still the letter… just keep saying it… yah… hope… what a concept.

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Professor – 

_You're probably wondering what exactly is this letter doing in your hands. I'll answer you that question – I'm trying to help. I know I can never redeem myself for the muck up I've made of everything – I know I can never hope to even gain your trust again, but I'm asking you to trust me on this. _

_First off, to confirm the rumours… Yes I do have the dark mark, yes for awhile I loved what I was doing, yes I killed H- countless mudbloods and muggles alike, yes I did most of this of my own free will. There, you have it, a confession. Now if you and Wonder Boy ever do catch up with me you have plenty of information to send me to Azkaban for life. See how bitter I've become? It's sort of ironic that I should be the traitor of the group. I mean, me, a Weasley, Wonder Boy's one time biggest follower… It's kind of funny, in a sadistic sort of way of course…_

_Anyway, I'm not going to waste anymore of your time then necessary. The Dark Lord is planning an attack for the fourth of December. That is in about three weeks. He will be most vulnerable a night or two before. He'll be too busy holding council's to pay much matter to security. Not one of his better moves, but then again, he's not very smart. I mean, he trusts me after all… You have to understand this, however. He knows. He knows his power is dying, and he embraces it. He wants to go out with a bang, he wants to be remembered. I think he's more human then most give him credit for. I will do what I can to ensure no suspicion leaks out, but the rest is up to you. _

_I want you to know this: I may have made some wrong choices, I may have gone with my current desires, I may have not thought out what I was doing, but I am sorry. Fickle apologies don't mean much at this point in time, but I really am sorry. I hope that someone will be happy at the end of all this. I know it won't be me, which is why I am going to choose my own time to go… Tell them goodbye. Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them that, even though they hate me, and that they don't believe one word of my letter, that it's true and that if I could do it over, it wouldn't have to end like this. I am so fucking sorry that it hurts. I thought I had forgotten how to feel, but I was wrong. Something someone said to me made me remember. It's too late for anything now, but I'm sorry. _

_Do I regret all of my decisions? No. Do I regret hurting those I once loved? Yes. Tell them for me. Good-by professor. _

_~V.A. Weasley_

_PS: Tell Severus thank you also"_

            Albus set down the letter in a confused daze. Rubbing his temples furiously, he reviewed the contents of his letter. If what she said was true (he'd double check with Severus later,) then something had to be done soon. Getting up and heading to his hearth, Dumbledore pulled out a handful of floo powder. "Harry Potter," he shouted into the flames…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ms. Weasley," it was Snape's voice. Damn, what does he want now! True, ever since the letter he has been politer, but still… I'm in no mood. It's December 3rd and it's a beautiful night. I wonder if they'll listen to my advice and go through with an attack. I hope so… but then again, hope is fucking useless…

"What is it now Severus?" sure I sound bitter, sure I sound desperate, but wouldn't you also? I mean, if you were going to die tonite wouldn't you at least feel a little bit anxious.

"I came to tell you that they're coming tonite. You can run if you like… or you can stay. The headmaster says he will vouch for you and try and get you a trial –" I cut his insistent rambling off.

"Don't kid yourself Sev, old Crouch would never let me off. Besides, I deserve to die, and I intend on doing exactly that," he seems a bit phased by my speech. Obviously he doesn't know what to make of my casual talk of death. Oh well.

"Ms. Weasley, I am sorry it had to end like this for you. You were always a good student, even if I seemed a bit prejudiced at times." Hah, compliments. How quaint… I wish it didn't have to end this way either, but it does. Funny, a few years ago if you had asked me where I would like to be, I never would have said dead. No, I would have probably said something like: "In Harry Potters bed asleep, as his wife, that was currently pregnant with their first child." How fucking funny is that? Oh how our desires change over the years. 

"Thank you," somehow, no matter how bitter I felt, I couldn't bring myself to retort harshly. Was I afraid to die? Not so much anymore… was I afraid to think about how my life could have been? Incredibly. That's how life, hehe, death, goes though… 

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry, you have to be the one to kill him. You remember the prophecy?" Remus Lupin stood anxiously next to Harry, prepping him and making sure he remembered. A curt nod was the only answer Remus needed.

"You can't save her," a sharp glare got shot Remus' way.

"Harry, you have to do this, you can't think about her right now. She's too far gone, there's no hope left… Even if Dumbledore did get her a trial, she'd lose. And if by some fated chance she won, she'd be as cold as ice, and – "

"Shut up," Remus complied. Harry knew what he had to do, and he wouldn't fail he was almost sure. It just, pained him to see such beauty have to die like this. Perhaps it was love, but probably more like wanting the unobtainable. How ironic.

"I know what I have to do, but I can still hope," with a shake of his head, Remus didn't reply to Harry's last comment.

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            I can hear it - the sounds of the battle. It's eerily comforting. The voices of angry men and women are shouting in alarm, crumbles and crashes, and cries of pain. I look out into the moonlight, the beams making temporary patterns on the snow. It's beautiful out, like ice, like my soul. No, it's not a golden beauty or a happy one even, but it's comforting. I think I picked the perfect night to die. I'm cold though, so cold, and not just in my heart. I should have put something warmer on, but it matters not… My body will be too cold to feel in the time to come, so it doesn't matter. At least I'll die breathing… So morbid, so foreboding… so true…

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So Potter, you've found me, eh? Let me guess, my little whore was the one to help you out? How gallant of her…" Tom could see Harry's jaw clench and unclench as he said this. Letting out a bark of laughter, he didn't move from the chair he was sitting in.

"Come now, Harry, no witty retort? My, my, I expected less of you. Well, right, let's get down to business shall we," silence, "alright then. I suppose you're not interested in any propositions, so we'll get straight to the killing part then, shall we?" Harry's brow furrowed further.

"How can you be like – like this!?" Tom smirked slightly as Harry gestured frantically.

"Whatever the fates allow…" Harry shook his head furiously, which only made Tom smirk wider. 

"No Voldemort, that's where you're wrong. You could have been good, great even, but you fucked it up for yourself… Damn waste of a brilliant mind." This little speech sparked something in Tom. His face quickly burned in anger.

"You little twit, think you know everything. You know nothing but happiness. Well I will give you a taste of pain – _crucio_!" Harry's form twisted in pain as the curse hit him full on. It was only a matter of seconds before he was crying out in agony, yet Tom continued to torture him.

"There, did you like that Potty boy?" Tom said maliciously. The panting form of Harry Potter lay crumpled on the floor. Weakly, almost, Harry stood back up and turned to face Tom.

"Is that the best you've got?" He said between inconvenient gasps. Laughter and then,

"Oh, so my little experiment didn't work as well as I thought it would. Fine, we'll go a little deeper then, shall we?" a glare from Harry was all it took until Tom started speaking again.

"Do you know how many times I pounded her? Yes, every night almost. Guess who's name she called out? Not yours wonder boy. Mine. That's right, 'Oh Tom, oh Tom, yeessss Tom, oh god.' No Potter, you were too busy 'saving the day' to notice what a treasure she had become. But it's too late Potter. She's almost dead now, her life is draining from her as we speak. Oh yes, I see it now, so much blood, so little time."

"YOU BASTARD! _CRUCIO!"_ this time it was Voldemort who twisted in pain. Harry's anger had fueled an effective curse. Through narrowed emerald orbs he watched the monster writhe in pain before him. Yet, the villains words had cut him deep. He almost despised Riddle for having so much access to Ginny. Then he thought, 'Ginny' he almost gasped. She was dying… he had to hurry.

"You've had it coming for a long time Scum! First my parents, then – then Sirius, and Ginny and… Hermione. You're going to pay, you're going to die! You're going to die at my feet like a whore, like a dirty fucking bitch!" If anyone who had known Harry over the years had witnessed the scene, they would have been appalled. Never had his anger been so much, never had his violence fueled to such heights. Wands were forgotten, and before the night was over, a once feared man's blood stained Harry Potters hands.

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"It is finished…" came the sound of an old mans voice. A shudder crept through the castle, and the few people assembled in that particular location bowed their heads solemnly. 

"We need to find Harry before he sees…" the werewolf's voice faded off as he gestured to the pale figure before him. The old man nodded his head glumly and then turned to exit. Those in the room followed also.

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            Unfortunately in Harry's case, they didn't find him before… well…

Harry entered a moonlit room. The air was eerily still, yet it was filled with some inexplicable sadness. The window was open, letting a slight breeze play with the heavy drapes. A solitary beam of moonlight hit the bed where a lone figure lay. She seemed almost as if in an enchanted sleep. Harry dared to hope.

"Ginny…" no response. Cautiously, he crept towards the high poster bed. Shaking his head he moved closer. He could touch the white duvet now, but he dared not.

"Ginny," a little louder, but still no response. Tempting himself further, he reached out to touch her limp arm. His fingers met something warm and sticky. Blood.

"God, no, no Ginny, wake up!" he began to shake her frantically, but it was to no avail. There she lay, like a queen of ice. Her skin was like snow, and just as cold, her dress a gauzy white, and her hair… her hair matched the red that flowed around her body. Laying limply on the duvet was one arm, scarred, torn, and bloody. The other was clutched to her chest in a look of desperation. It too was torn and mangled. 

            He was shaking, and he couldn't stop. She was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. The word kept circling in his head, like a bad dream, only worse. Dead. He wanted to make the screaming in his head stop, but he couldn't. He couldn't think, he couldn't stop, and he just lay there. He lay there next to her, and took her worn and cold body in his arms. Furiously, frantically he began to rub her arms. They needed warmth, they needed life, and then it would be ok. He just lay there in puddles of her blood, and held her, and kissed her and refused to believe she was dead. If she had been alive then she would have been thinking, "God, this is so fucked up… Haha, my life is so fucking messed up! Haha, Harry Potter is kissing me… haha fucked up… fucked…" But she wasn't alive. No, no, her blood covered her like some second skin, and he lay in it also, refusing to notice it's sticky warmth. Dead. Cold and dead. Gone. So fucked up… so damn fucked up…

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ok duckies… an epilogue to come… for now, this is all… I'll try and update soon, but no promises. 


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